


kiss me like the world will end

by deathsweetqueen



Series: Stony Bingo 2018 [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes as Captain America, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, Pining Steve Rogers, Showing Off, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers as the Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 04:19:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17134832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathsweetqueen/pseuds/deathsweetqueen
Summary: “I know what you’re up to.”Fuck.Steve huffs. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”“Come on, punk,” Bucky gently grabs him around the neck, with aborted steps that show exactly what he was going to do and when he was going to do it. “You can’t hide shit from me, remember?”“I still have no idea what you’re talking about, jerk.”“Hey,” Bucky begins, gently, and it makes his chest hurt. “It’s okay, you know. I didn’t mean to make fun of ya. I’m happy for ya.”Steve snorts. “Happy? Are you kiddin’ me? You should be draggin’ him out of here; take him to some uncharted island and don’t tell me anythin’ about it.”





	kiss me like the world will end

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "showoff" square on my Stony Bingo card.

“I know what you’re up to.”

_Fuck._

Steve huffs. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, punk,” Bucky gently grabs him around the neck, with aborted steps that show exactly what he was going to do and when he was going to do it. “You can’t hide shit from me, remember?”

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about, jerk.”

“Hey,” Bucky begins, gently, and it makes his chest hurt. “It’s okay, you know. I didn’t mean to make fun of ya. I’m happy for ya.”

Steve snorts. “Happy? Are you kiddin’ me? You should be draggin’ him out of here; take him to some uncharted island and don’t tell me anythin’ about it.”

“Stevie-”

“No,” Steve says, firmly. “It was a dumb idea. He’s Tony Stark: genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, Iron Man. He does so much fuckin’ good in this world; everything he does is to help people, make this world better for _everyone_ , and look at me, Buck. _Look at me_.” He looks down at his hands, at the splatters of blood that he can’t see anymore, but still won’t be able to wash away. “I’m a murderer.”

“Don’t say that,” Bucky says, sharply, his blue-grey eyes needle-sharp and hurt. “It ain’t your fault, what happened, Stevie. You had nothin’ to do with it. It was all HYDRA; _they’re_ responsible, _not_ you. And you’re safe now. You never have to go back there, and you never have to do anythin’ they want again.” He grips Steve’s flesh shoulder. “You don’t need to feel like you’re less, Steve. You’re not.”

Steve tries to swallow the words down, but they don’t settle in his bones, not easily, at least, if at all.

“Are you in love with him?” Bucky asks, quietly.

Steve thinks of Tony’s smile, the way he laughs and talks and walks and runs his hands through his hair and scolds his robots with such affection and looks so sleep-rumpled and soft in the mornings without his first cup of coffee and how Steve feels overwhelmingly alive at the very sight of him, and he just wants to make the world _nice_ for Tony Stark. If that’s a thing he could do, after all the life and death he’s dealt out, well, then, he thinks it would make all the broken, painful, fragile things inside him heal just a little bit easier.

“Yeah,” he says, honestly, and the words aren’t too big, too heavy, too confronting for him to say, not like he thought. “Yeah, I think I am.”

“You should tell him,” Bucky insists.

That’s not something he could ever do. It’s not a burden he could ever place on Tony’s shoulders.

Steve shakes his head. “No, I think it’s better that I keep my mouth shut.”

* * *

Somehow, Steve finds himself in the gym one day, in the nook that’s fashioned into a shooting range, while Tony loiters outside the sparring ring, waiting for Natasha and Clint to finish their round. He sits on the bench, thumbing at his phone, his eyes so consumed by what he’s reading.

Steve memorises the lines of his body, holds them close to his chest.

He turns his attention back to the dummy in front of him. He takes a deep breath, raising his Kalashnikov. Five pulls of the trigger and there’s a neat, straight little line going down from the dummy’s ribcage to the base of his stomach.

“Holy shit.”

Steve turns on his feet, surprised to see Tony standing right behind him, hands behind his back, while staring at him with an appreciative look in his eyes.

“I mean, I knew you were skilled, but that was just insane. You weren’t even really concentrating, were you?”

“Well…” Steve rubs the back of his neck, somehow not wanting to admit the truth to him. “Yeah.”

“Wow.” Tony narrows his eyes. “This gym’s too good for you, isn’t it, Terminator?”

Steve shrugs, lazily. “Well…”

“Barnes was right; you are such a shit-stirrer,” Tony accuses.

Steve bites his lip. “Where’d you think he learnt it from?” he says, boldly.

Tony laughs. It’s such a fleeting sound that he doesn’t hear very often that it has his skin warming.

“You are… not what I expected at all, Rogers,” Tony muses, carefully, the lines in his face soft.

“What were you expectin’?” Steve asks, curiously.

_A murderer, a monster, a doll, something inhuman._

Tony shrugs. “I don’t know. Not you, at least.” He strides up to him. “So, how can I make this good for you?”

Steve blinks. “Good for me?”

“Your gym experience is woefully lacking, Rogers,” Tony says, patiently. “What can I do to fix it?”

Steve shakes his head. “You’ve already done so much for me, Tony. I couldn’t ask you for any more-”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Rogers. I haven’t done anything for you that I haven’t done for the other freeloaders living in my house, rent-free.”

“We heard that, Stark,” Clint calls from the ring. “You just wait until it’s your round in here.”

Steve glowers at him. “Barton,” he warns.

Clint pales and rounds on an amused Natasha.

Steve turns back to Tony. “I promise, as soon as SHIELD gives me clearance, I’ll get out there and uh, find a job, find a way to pay you back for everythin’.”

Tony waves him off before he can finish speaking. “I was joking when I said freeloading, you know. So, please don’t. It’d ruin my street cred as the eccentric, superbly jealous billionaire.” He shamelessly slides a hand through the crook of Steve’s elbow. “So, tell me, how can I make this gym better for you?”

Steve clears his throat, knowing that his ears are flushed. “Well, the dummies are fairly standard. They don’t move. Movin’ targets are usually, uh, harder to shoot.”

Tony frowns, contemplating what he just said. “So, moving targets, huh? Like robots that attack you. That could be fun to make.” He runs a finger over his jaw. “I could set them on Barton just for kicks,” he muses.

“No, no,” Steve says, quickly. “It was just a suggestion. I wouldn’t want you to take time out of your busy life to-”

“No, I’m gonna do it,” Tony says, absentmindedly. “If I don’t, you’ll stop coming down to the shooting range, won’t you?”

“Well, to be honest, it’s not the biggest challenge for me, considerin’ my very specific skill-set,” Steve says, dryly.

“Then, I absolutely have to do something about it, don’t I?” Tony looks up at him through fine, dark eyelashes. “I like it when you shoot.”

* * *

This starts a dangerous rhythm between the two.

He likes showing off for Tony; that’s what’s dangerous about it.

It starts off with practicing his shooting where Tony can see it, especially after he makes those automated targets for him, which charge at him according to pre-defined speeds. They’re meticulous in their efforts to bring him down, which makes it all the more fun when he finds their control centre and shoots the fuck out of it; it becomes a giant game between him and Tony to see how creative Tony can be and how good Steve is at what he does. 

“Did you seriously trash twelve of them today?” Tony complains, sauntering into the gym.

“I like keepin’ you on your toes,” Steve says, smugly.

Tony looks him over, appreciatively, which makes Steve’s ears flush. “I can see that.”

Steve’s heart skips a beat. “I hope I’m not, uh, too demandin’ or anythin’. I’m sure you have a lot to do and better things to do than to keep cleanin’ up after me.”

“You’re not,” Tony says, innocently. “You’re a challenge, remember. I like challenges.”

_You like challenges, huh?_

* * *

It starts a little healthy competition between him and Natasha, the only one who sees what’s going on and finds it funny as fuck. She approaches him one day in the gym, while Clint is on a mission, Tony is at a meeting and Bucky is out doing some necessary shopping, despite Tony’s many protests.

“I know what you’re doing,” she drawls.

He stares into her green eyes and wonders if this is what Bucky sees in her, if this is what Bucky loves in her. He remembers her as Natalia, a little girl with hair the colour of fire and eyes that broke him open when he didn’t know anything about himself beyond the next mission.

No wonder Bucky loves her.

Right now, he doesn’t know he loves her very much though.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he says, sternly.

Natasha rolls her eyes. “You might be able to throw James off your scent, but your tricks won’t work with me, Steve.”

“I still can’t believe you call him _James_ ,” Steve mutters.

“I still can’t believe you named him _Bucky_ ,” Natasha retorts. “And stop trying to change the subject. You’re in love with Tony.”

Steve tenses. “No, I’m _not_ ,” he says, fiercely, like the very thought offends him.

“You are, Steve,” Natasha insists, gently. “And that’s not a bad thing.”

“You, of all people, can’t say that,” Steve snaps. “You’re one of Tony’s best friends. You _love_ him; you, of all people, _can’t_ say that, not if you really love him.”

“You’re right; I _do_ love him; he _is_ one of my best friends, and I’m one of his. So, believe me when I say that this isn’t the sin you think it is. You aren’t _wrong_ for wanting this, for wanting _him_. You loving him is one of the most honest, decent things you could feel for that man, and he loves you too, Steve. Anyone can see it.” Natasha looks away, swallowing hard, and her face tightens. “Both of us have done terrible, awful things in our lifetime, Steve; so much of it wasn’t our fault, but it still lingers in us. But can I tell you something? James makes it better for me; James makes _everything_ better for me, and I _know_ Tony makes everything better for you too. Don’t let this go because you think you don’t deserve him.”

Natasha places a hand on his forearm, trusting that he won’t just break it, and stares at him, firmly.

Something relents in him, something that had a stranglehold on him for a while now, out of fear and in disgust, and he looks down at his feet.

“You’re right,” he clears his throat. “I do love him.”

Natasha’s lips twitch. “Good of you to finally admit it,” she says, dryly.

“It’s a bad idea, Natasha,” he insists.

“Why?” she demands, gently.

“I’m a terrible person. I’m a killer. I’m fucked up in the head. Take your pick!”

“HYDRA did all of those things to you, Steve,” Natasha says, softly. “And we’re all fucked up in the head, including Tony. You’re in good company here. So, try again.”

Everything he says, she vetoes like it doesn’t even matter.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Steve grits out.

“I want you to be happy. I want you and Tony to be happy, preferably together.”

“I don’t even how to do this, Natasha,” he exhales, running a hand through his hair; it’s longer now than it was when he first came to the tower, grown out from the buzz-cut he’d been sporting.

“Do what?”

“I was shit at this before,” Steve confesses. “Before HYDRA, before the serum, before the war, I was shit at this. I couldn’t talk to a dame without stumblin’ all over myself. I doubt I could do better with Tony. Hell, I’ve never even been with… a woman or a man or anyone, really. Even if I agreed this was okay, even if I thought this was a good idea, I wouldn’t even know where to go with it. I wouldn’t even know how to-to approach him or anythin’.”

Natasha’s grip on his forearm tightens. “I can help you. We can do this together. And it won’t be that hard, Tony’s in love with you already.”

“This isn’t a game or a job to me,” he snaps.

Natasha falters. “I know, I know. I was just saying that it’s not as difficult as you think it is.”

Steve sinks down onto the bench, rubbing a hand over his face. “How?” he asks, morbidly curious.

Natasha smiles and pats his hand. “I’ll explain as we go.”

Steve’s already beginning to regret this.

* * *

Natasha’s idea blossoms during a mission. They’re facing off against a HYDRA cell, barricaded inside an abandoned castle, with Tony and Thor and the Hulk decimating the outside (and inside, once the Hulk breaks down enough walls), and him, Bucky, Clint and Natasha trying to sneak their way inside, like spies and operatives do.

Natasha poses a wager over their comm link.

“How about we see how many hostiles each of us can make, boys?” she drawls.

Bucky grunts over the comm. “Isn’t that, uh, downplayin’ what’s goin’ on here?”

Natasha snorts. “That sounds like someone who thinks he’s going to lose,” she sings.

“I’m in,” Tony says, immediately, and a clash of metal can be heard over the line. “But only because my last protongun attack just shot down like twenty-five HYDRA bastards. So, I think I’m in the win.”

“I fear that you are incorrect, Man of Iron,” Thor exclaims, joyfully. “My last blast of lightning vanquished thirty-two of our foes, by my last count.”

“Steve,” Natasha’s voice speaks cleanly in his ear, and only his ear. “Now’s your time to shine.”

Steve wrings out his shoulders and raises his rifle, peering through the scope. Each pull of the trigger passes by like a dream, and when he looks up, there are thirty-eight bodies strewn across the ground.

He leans back, smugly. They’re HYDRA, after all. “Thirty-eight, boys and girl. Looks like I win.”

“Holy-” Metal makes a jarring sound. “Holy shit, did you just shoot thirty-eight HYDRA operatives in under four minutes?” Tony demands.

“I did,” Steve says, smugly.

“Fucking show-off,” Barton mutters under his breath.

“Shit, Rogers. _Fucking shit_ , Rogers,” Tony drags out, almost awed.

“Told you it would work,” Natasha hums in his ear.

Steve smiles, unseen by everyone.

* * *

“You sure about this?” Steve asks, in a low, hushed voice, when he and Bucky square off against each other in the ring.

Bucky shrugs. “Yeah, why not? I need a good work-out and Tasha seems to think this would be a good idea in getting’ Tony to fall for ya, arse over teakettle.”

Steve shrugs. “I’m good with those motivations.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Tony striding into the gym, clad in only a muscle tank and sweats.

“Okay, go.”

Bucky nods and lunges for him, but Steve ducks the blow. He uses his foot to kick out, sending Bucky flying against the ropes and bouncing back. Bucky growls and tries to punch him, but Steve blocks and twists his body, sending Bucky hurtling to the floor over his shoulder. His foot comes down, hard, on him, but Bucky rolls out of the way just in time, climbing to his feet. Bucky manages to get him into a headlock, forcing Steve to struggle in an effort to shove him off, but Steve plants his feet on the ropes and pushes back with the force of his entire body. Both of them hit the floor with a grunt and stumble to their feet.

Their muscles are flexing and sweat is running and they’re panting heavily, like their lungs aren’t working anymore, even if they actually work better than any human’s. Finally, Steve is the winner, as was expected – not because of some stunt they’re pulling for Tony’s benefit, but because his serum is stronger and his skill is greater, and it makes all the difference.

He claps Bucky on the shoulder. “Thanks, Buck.”

“You’re welcome, Stevie,” Bucky replies, tying his hair up in a low bun at the base of his neck. “Now, go take a shower. You reek.”

Steve snorts. “Like you can talk. It’s like an animal died in here.”

He jumps out of the ring onto his two bare feet and pads his way to the showers, pulling off his clothes and throwing them into a hamper that will be dragged away by one of Tony’s bots – such is the life of the filthy rich and famous. He turns on the water and still marvels when it’s warm and it doesn’t stop being warm, hurtling down his back.

“You’ve been torturing me.”

Steve swings around, only to find Tony leaning against the wall, with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Have I?” he blinks, innocently, resisting the urge to drag his eyes down Tony’s still damp body, like he’s some teenager discovering his cock for the first time.

Tony gives him a withering look. “Come on, Steve. Don’t play games. We both know what you’ve been doing.”

He prowls forward, like a panther on a hunt, until he’s standing right in front of Steve.

He leans in.

“It’s okay, Steve. I want it too,” he murmurs, placing his palm on Steve’s cheek, running a thumb over his cheekbone. “I love you too.”

Something melts in his chest, easy and soft, like an anvil’s being dragged off his aching body.

“Oh,” he says, lamely.

Tony grins, broadly and without restraint. “Yeah, oh.”

He lifts himself onto his toes and kisses Steve gently, then firmly, his arms thrown around his neck. Steve moans and dives into the kiss, lifting him by the thighs and turning them around so that he can splay him out against his wall. His hand settles over the knot holding the towel around Tony’s waist.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs.

Tony nods. “Yeah,” he replies, breathlessly. “It’s great.”

Steve grins and deftly unties the knot, kicking the towel away onto the sodden floor. He kisses Tony again, cupping his neck, his thumb dragging over Tony’s pulse point slowly, until he sees Tony’s eyes go hazy and lidded and hot with lust.

“Do you really want this?”

Steve needs to know. He has to know if Tony’s willing to get in bed with _him_ , with Steve Rogers _and_ the Winter Soldier.

“Yes, Steve,” Tony says, gently, as if he knows exactly what Steve is thinking, what terrible thought he can’t split away from the ache in his chest. “Yes, I want this. I want this with _you_ , all of you.”

Steve nods, warmth curling into the empty spaces in his ribs. “Okay. Okay. Good. _Great_.”

He leans down and hikes Tony up even further his body, so their faces are at the same level. Tony parts his mouth eagerly underneath his, making a noise of contentment and bliss, the blood hot in his face. Tony’s hands run down his big, wide arms, thighs tightening around his waist.

“Come on, Steve. We’ve waited too long.”

Steve groans, a hurt little noise from deep in his abdomen, and kisses him even harder, as the water trains down on them.

“God, I should’ve shown off a long time ago,” he rasps.


End file.
